Cf>l70.03 


A  CHEROKEE  BALL-PLAY  AND  DUEL 
BY  V/.  A.  THOMPSON 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 


THE   COLLECTION  OF 
NORTH   CAROLINIANA 

ENDOViEr)   BY 

JOHN  SPRUNT  HILL 
CLASS  OF  1889 


Cp970.03 
tU7c 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2011  with  funding  from 

University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


http://www.archive.org/details/cherokeeballplayOOthom 


Au^^  /i' 


7    "  ■' 

The  Rosary. 


167 


"  So  winter  passed,  and  when  the  spring 

Was  mild  and  warm  in  everything, 

One  day,  at  Madelina's  side, 

I  walked  the  champaign  still  and  wide, 

How  fresh  the  leaf  on  bush  and  bough! 

How  green  the  sunfiowered  turf  below! 

Afar,  upon  an  upland  lawn, 

St.  Mary's  convent  crowned  the  view, 

Its  roofs  and  turrets  darkly  drawn 

Upon  the  light  and  living  blue. 

And  she  so  near,  so  sweet,  so  dear! 

And  none  to  see  and  none  to  hear, 

And  only  that  enchanting  sky 

'Twixt  us  and  bright  infinity ; 

Mj'  heart  leaped  up,  its  barriers  broke, 

And  all  its  blissful  passion  spoke. 

"  She  heard  me  with  a  cheek  so  white, 

And  such  an  anguish  in  her  eye, 

I  would  have  clasped  her  in  my  fright. 

But  with  a  shudder  and  a  cry, 

'  O,  touch  me,  woo  me  not!'  she  said, 

'  I  am  a  pledged,  devoted  maid ; 

Ere  I  had  numbered  summers  seven, 

I  promised  all  my  life  to  Heaven ; 

My  every  prayer  hath  sealed  the  vow, 

I  must  not,  cannot  break  it  now. 

Mother  of  sorrows,  pity  me ! 

ThoTi  dost,  but  O,  thou  canst  not  free!' 

"  Upon  this  cross  her  lips  she  pressed. 
Then  clasped  the  symbol  to  her  breast; 
Raised  heavenward  looks  that  mutely  prayed, 
Then  turned,  and  fondly,  sadly  said, 

'My  friend,  if  thou  hast  loved  me,  go; 
My  heart  hath  sinned  enough  for  thee. 
And  Christ  and  Mary  only  know 
How  deep  hath  been  its  agony. 
Farewell!  perchance  we'll  meet  again 
"Where  love  will  not  be  sin  or  pain !' 

"  As  if  a  wanderer,  long  from  home. 
To  the  beloved  place  should  come. 
And  meet  a  sentry  at  the  door, 
"Who  tells  him  it  is  his  no  more — 
That  hostile  powers  possess  the  land, 
And  force  him  from  his  native  strand — 
He  hears,  and  stands  in  woful  trance. 
Heart-stricken  by  the  fatal  chance: 
E'en  so  I  heard,  and  so  I  stood 
At  the  barred  gates  of  promised  good, 
Then,  wild  with  love  and  baffled  hope, 
I  sought  with  her  resolve  to  cope. 
A  losing  strife — I  could  not  brook 
The  silent  pleading  of  her  look; 
Love  to  himself  a  traitor  proved 
In  conflict  with  his  own  beloved. 
And  Eeason  faltered,  fain  to  spare 
The  creed  that  nursed  a  life  so  fair. 

•"  And  so  I  yielded  to  her  prayer, 
And  led  her  to  St.  Mary's  shrine. 


There,  in  a  presence  great,  divine. 
To  rend  her  from  this  heart  of  mine. 
And  there  I  left  her,  kneeling  low 
Amid  the  votive  flowers  of  May, 
And  with  a  burning  sense  of  woe 
And  injury,  I  turned  away. 
But  not  in  prayer  to  woo  relief; 
I  sought  another  cure  for  grief. 
And,  flying  from  those  scenes  afar. 
Enlisted  in  a  foreign  war. 

"  I  felt  the  breath  of  battle  blow; 
I  saw  the  dead  lie  cold  below; 
At  length  my  bleeding  heart  forbore 
To  mourn  life's  losses  at  death's  door. 
And  in  the  still  and  solemn  night 
That  bordered  on  the  fiery  fight. 
On  the  long  march,  or  in  the  gloom 
Of  hospital  or  prison  room. 
My  soul,  so  oft  from  death  redeemed. 
Looked  up,  and  on  its  darkness  streamed 
The  glory  of  the  Lord,  my  shield. 
In  all  his  tenderness  revealed. 
And  so  I  felt  my  sorrow  yield. 
And  when  the  peace-flower  bloomed  anew. 
All  heavenly  from  that  hellish  dew, 
A  solemn  peace  my  heart  possessed. 
And  struck  its  music  through  my  breast. 

"  Upon  my  native  soil  again, 

The  kindred  of  my  blood  embraced. 

Once  more  the  memory-haunted  plain 

All  other  images  efi"aced, 

And  drew  me,  like  a  pleading  ghost. 

To  seek  its  scenes  at  any  cost. 

O,  never  weary  pilgrim  neared 

The  shrine  by  holiest  hopes  endeared. 

In  such  an  ecstasy  of  soul — 

Half  fear,  all  joy,  J)eyond  control — 

As  shook  my  pulses  while  I  moved 

Toward  those  dear  haunts  of  my  beloved! 

"  And  first  I  sought  St.  Mary's  fane. 
The  doors  stood  open,  it  was  May; 
I  saw  the  altar  wreathed  again 
As  on  that  mournful  parting  day. 
But  where  she  knelt  a  coffin  stood, 
Open  and  brimmed  with  flowers  of  spring. 
As  if  it  held  some  lovely  thing 
As  young,  as  beautiful,  as  good. 
My  heart  stood  still.    Yes,  all  was  o'er; 
I  knew  my  love  would  weep  no  more ! 

"  Her  eyes  were  sealed  for  long  repose, 
Her  mouth  was  like  a  fiiding  rose, 
Her  fair,  thin  hands  upon  her  breast 
Were  folded  in  eternal  rest. 
I  stood  and  gazed,  and  could  not  weep, 
I  felt  her  mine  to  hold  and  keep; 
Into  my  heart's  barred  house  of  gloom 
I  took  her  in  her  sweet  death-bloom, 
And  felt  the  sorrow  and  the  sin 
Depart,  and  glory  enter  in  I 


I 


168 


A   Cherokee  Ball-Play  and  Duel. 


"  Then  through  the  roofs  a  music  rung, 
And  words,  as  from  an  angel's  tongue: 
'  The  marriage  of  the  Lamb  is  come, 
Ecjoice!  the  bride  is  welcomed  home.' 
^yith  changes  sweet,  it  came  again, 
And  still  my  heart  replied,  amen! 

"  It  ceased,  and  at  my  side  there  stood 
The  gray  old  priest,  sincere  and  good. 
'  Peace  to  thy  soul!'  he  kindly  said,    • 
'  I  have  a  message  from  the  dead. 
She  begged  me,  when  her  soul  was  freed, 
And  she  before  the  altar  laid. 
To  take  the  amber  rosary. 
O'er  which  she  long  had  wept  and  prayed. 
From  off  her  breast  and  send  it  thee. 
' "  And  tell  him  'tis  a  sign,"  .she  said, 
"  That  I  am  with  the  blessed  dead." 


And  here  her  eyes  grew  large  and  bright, 

As  if  she  saw  some  rapturous  sight: 

'"And  tell  him  we  shall  meet  again, 

Where  love  will  not  be  sin  or  pain." 

"Whoe'er  a  dying  prayer  denied? 

I  promised,  and  she  sweetly  died. 

I  came  the  chapiet  to  remove. 

And  find  thee  here  to  claim  the  gift; 

Take  it,  and  may  this  cross  uplift 

Thy  spirit  to  the  realms  above!' 

He  drew  it  from  her  icy  hold, 

I  took  it  with  a  hand  as  cold. 

Again  the  organ  music  rung, 

And  loud  the  hidden  singers  sung: 

'  The  marriage  of  the  Lamb  is  come, 

Eejoice!  the  bride  is  welcomed  home.' 

And  my  soottied  spirit  answered  then, 

As  now  and  evermore,  Amen!" 


A  CHEROKEE  BALL-PLAY  AXD  DUEL. 


BY  W.   A.   THOMPSON. 


The  Cherokees,  located  on  the  western 
frontier  of  Arkansas,  can  scarcely  now  be 
called  Indians,  much  less  savages.  At  all 
events,  they  are  as  much  advanced  in  civili- 
zation as  their  American  neighbors.  They 
have  schools,  a  constitution,  laws,  courts,  and 
more  wealth,  according  to  numbers,  than  any 
other  body  politic  in  the  world.  Many  of 
their  sons  and  daughters  are  educated  in  the 
first  seminaries  in  Xew  England.  Besides, 
they  are  at  present  more  than  half  white, 
owing  to  a  long  cours^  of  frequent  inter- 
marriage with  the  white  people.  They  have 
adopted  the  names  of  the  whites,  also  copied 
their  dress,  institutions  and  manners,  and 
especially  the  custom  of  duelling,  so  prevalent 
on  their  borders.  They  still  retain,  however, 
some  of  their  ancient  amusements,  and 
among  the  rest,  the  great  game  of  which 
they  are  so  excessively  fond,  the  Ball-Play, 
described  in  the  sequel. 

We  give  as  a  voucher  for  the  truth  of  our 
narrative,  the  Hon.  George  W.  Paschal,  of 
Yan  Buren,  Arkansas,  a  gentleman  well 
known  to  the  commercial  world  of  New 
Tork.  Mr.  Paschal  was  several  years  a  judge 
of  the  supreme  court  in  his  adopted  State. 
He  is  thoroughly  acquainted  wi|,h  the  Chero- 
kees, hr.ving  espoused  a  sister  df  the  famous 
chief  Jchn  Kidge.  He  was  present  with  the 
writer  at  the  ball-play  now  to  be  noticed. 


It  was  ten  o'clock,  the  fourth  of  May,  133S. 


The  hour,  previously  fixed  at  the  last  general 
council,  had  arrived  for  the  commencement 
of  the  great  national  games — imperial  paragon 
of  all  games  the  sun  of  heaven  ever  saw — tlie 
famous  Cherokee  bail-plaj'. 

Immediately  the  six  marshals  of  the  day, 
distinguished  by  long  crimson  scarfs  swaling 
from  their  shoulders,  began  to  move  about 
W'ith  bustling  liaste,  arranging  preliminaries 
and  clearing  the  ground.  The  site  had  been 
most  admirably  chosen,  both  with  a  view  to 
the  perilous  sport  of  the  performers  and  con- 
venient for  the  host  of  spectators.  "  Ths 
Looking-ylass  Prairie,''  so  called  on  account 
of  its  small  size  and  exceeding  beauty,  is  not 
more  than  half  a  mile  in  extent,  and,  being 
environed  by  majestic  forests,  resembles  a 
mirror,  having  its  frame  wreathed  with 
fantastic  garlands.  Near  the  centre  of  this 
smooth  plain  is  a  circular  line  of  five  consid- 
erable mounds,  enclosing  a  depressed  and 
perfectly  level  space  of  from  forty  to  fifty 
yards  in  diameter.  Here  was  the  arena, 
altogether  fi'ee  from  grass  and  somewhat 
dusty,  having  been  trodden  for  years  by  the 
feet  of  strong  men  contending  for  victory  in 
a  sort  of  strife  almost  as  terrible  as  real  battle. 
Surrounding  the  arena,  large  ropes,  attached 
to  posts  of  cedar  set  In  the  earth  at  the  base 
of  the  conical  mounds,  were  stretched  to  their 
utmost  tension,  thus  serving  to  separate  the 
crowd  of  beholders  from  the  champions  in  the 
grand  game.    The  mounds  themselves,  with 


A  Cherokee  Ball-Play  and  Dictl. 


169 


sloping  sides  toucliing  each  other  by  their 
gentle  acclivity  and  moderate  elevation, 
formed  a  fine  raised  amphitheatre  for  the 
assembled  multitude,  who  might  be  said, 
almost  without  hyperbole,  to  comprise  the 
whole  Cherokee  nation ;  for  both  sexes,  all 
ages  and  every  condition  of  life,  had  gathered 
to  the  common  point  and  stated  period  of 
annual  reunion. 

My  glance  was  attracted  from  the  aggrega- 
tive mass  of  human  forms  by  a  vision  of  indi- 
vidual beauty,  brighter  than  anything  I  had 
previously  seen  or  ever  conceived,  save  in  the 
starlit  drapery  of  dreams.  Seated  among 
several  older  persons  in  a  carriage  on  the 
summit  of  the  mound,  only  a  few  paces  from 
where  I  stood,  was  a  young  girl,  whose 
appearance  realized  all  my  imagination  had 
ever  painted  as  the  possible  perfection  of 
female  loveliness.  In  addition  to  the  charms, 
for  the  most  part  hereditary  to  the  quadroons 
of  her  tribe — grace  of  figure,  harmony  in 
every  feature,  and  melting  sweetness  of  smile, 
transparent  and  intellectual  beauty — this 
bewitching  creature  possessed  a  countenance 
peculiar  and  irresistible,  yet  thoroughly  inde- 
scribable. I  essayed  a  thousand  times  to 
profile  that  face  and  daguerreotype  the  lustre 
of  those  beamy  black  eyes,  whose  rays  seemed 
to  emanate  from  some  unknown  and  meas- 
ureless distance  iji  the  depths  of  the  soul,  or, 
perchance,  out  of  the  heights  of  heaven,  but 
I  have  always  been  forced  to  cast  down  my 
powerless  pen  in  despair. 

"That  is  Emma  Starr,"  said  my  friend 
Paschal,  observing  the  direction  of  my  admir- 
ing gaze,  "  the  most  beautiful  woman  in  the 
nation." 

"In  the  world!"  I  added,  mentally. 

"And  yet,"  continued  he,  "her  six  brothers 
afe  the  most  notorious  desperadoes  and  duel- 
lists west  of  the  Mississippi,  although  she 
herself  is  tendar-hearted  and  innocent  as  a 
fchild;  and,  what  is  still  stranger,  no  con- 
temptible devotee  to  the  Muses." 

"  What  a  pity,"  I  remarked,  with  increasing 
interest,  "that  such  an  angel  could  not  be 
removed  from  associations  so  uncongenial  to 
a  noble  nature." 

My  friend  replied  with  a  piece  of  informa- 
tion that  darkeiued,  to  me,  forever,  a  whole 
streaming  galaxy  of  nebulous  hopes. 

"  She  was  to  have  been  wedded  some  six 
weeks  ago  to  the  eloquent  young  lawyer 
Horace  Jordan.  You  have  heard  of  him. 
But  her  bold,  bad  brothers,  for  what  reason  I 
am  not  apprised,  broke  off  the  match,  and,  it 
11 


is  said,  threatened  her  lovers  life ;  but  I  see 
him  yonder." 

And  Judge  Paschal  pointed  out  with  his 
finger  a  tall,  slender  form,  loaning  agaiutt  one 
of  the  posts  near  the  arena. 

Suddenly  the  herald's  bugle  pealed  a  clear, 
piercing  note,  and  every  eye  was  instantly  on 
the  ring,  into  which  fifty  braves  might  be 
seen  leaping,  by  single  bounds,  over  the  ropes 
lygh  as  the  waist.  These  champions  were  all 
dressed  alike  in  leather  pantaloons,  fitting 
tightly  as  the  skin,  and  reaching  not  more 
than  half  way  down  the  thigh.  Such  was 
their  only  garment,  the  rest  of  their  bodies 
being  completely  bare,  and  shining  from  a 
recent  copious  anointment  of  yellow  colored 
oil.  Choicer  specimens  of  athleticism  could 
not  well  be  found,  should  you  search  the 
wide  world  over.  Volumes  of  swelling  muscle 
and  sharp  ridges  of  naked  nerves,  literally 
quivering  with  pure  excess  of  strength  and 
redundant  vitality,  all  revealed  distinctly  in 
the  vivid  light  of  cloudless  May  sunbeams, 
gave  ample  assurance  how  desperate  must  be 
the  coming  conflict. 

The  thousands  of  spectators  on  the  natural 
amphitheatre  of  old  mounds  could  see  them 
all,  and  commenced  betting  furiously  on  their 
various  favorites.  All  around  me  I  could 
hear  wagers  proffered,  but  mostly  refused, 
that  some  one  of  the  "  Starrs,"  and  especially 
"  Big  Jim,"  would  win  the  hundred  scores 
which  were  to  be  counted  before  the  termi- 
nation of  the  game. 

Again  the  bugle  sounded,  and  the  chief, 
marshal  advanced  to  one  side  of  the  arena, 
holding  in  his  hand  a  ball  coveretl  with 
leather  and  of  ordinary  dimensions,  but  load- 
ed with  several  bullets  to  give  it  greater 
force.  By  means  of  a  strong  sling  he  hurled 
the  little  hissing  globe  high  up  in  the  air,  as 
nearly  as  possible  over  the  centre  of  the  ring. 
The  gladiators  scattered  at  different  points 
around  the  enclosed  space,  and  each  one 
touching  the  ropes,  followed  with  his  eyes 
the  ascending  missile,  to  watch  the  course  it 
might  take.  It  rose  half  a  thousand  feet, 
slower  and  slower,  seemed  to  rest  an  instant 
like  a  small  speck  in  the  sky,  and  then  began 
to  fall,  faster  in  the  ratio  reversed  of  its  up- 
ward flight.  Tremendous,  then,  Avas  the  rush 
of  the  athleta?  to  gain  the  line  of  its  descent 
before  it  should  again  plumb  the  earth.  The 
shock  of  fifty  men  running  at  full  speed  from 
opposite  directions  and  meeting  in  a  common 
focus  embodied  in  mere  idea  the  extreme  of 
danger.    The    peril    to    life    and    limb    was 


170 


A   Cherokee  Ball-Play  and  Duel. 


rendered  more  fearful  by  the  rules  of  the 
game,  which  peruiitted  every  one  to  work  his 
way  by  any  act  of  violence  short  of  direct 
blows.  I  shuddered  and  caught  my  breath  as 
if  suddenly  immersed  in  ice-water  on  behold- 
ing more  than  a  dozen  braves  prostrate  on 
the  ground,  many  of  whom  liad  to  be  carried 
from  the  ring  with  bleeding  noses  and  broken 
bones  by  the  marshals  and  their  assistants. 

Owing  to  his  superior  swiftness  of  foot,  Sam 
Runabout,  a  young  Cherokee  of  the  genuine 
stock,  reached  the  descending  ball  first,  and 
by  a  dexterous  stroke,  when  it  was  only  two 
yards  from  the  earth,  sent  it  whizzing  beyond 
the  ropes. 

"Score  ten  for  Runabout!"  cried  the  chief 
marshal  to  the  recorder,  and  a  loud  shout 
greeted  the  announcement. 

Once  more  the  herald's  bugle  brayed  out 
for  another  round,  and  a  hundred  fresh 
aspirants,  in  whose  breasts  the  enthusiasm 
caused  by  the  s.ene  had  triumphed  over 
prudence,  sprang  into  the  ring.  And  again 
the  ball  shot  high  in  the  air,  and  the  same 
result  of  scarred  faces  and  fractured  limbs 
ensued,  aggravated,  however,  by  the  increased 
numbers  in  the  arena. 

"Score  down  ten  more  for  Runabout!" 
said  the  marshal. 

The  youth  had  again  succeeded  in  his 
difficult  feat.  Wagers  were  now  laid  at  ten 
to  one  in  favor  of  Runabout,  who  had  already 
won  twenty  "  figures,"  and  a  hundred  would 
close  the  game.  But  the  wise  ones,  and 
among  them  Thomas  Wolfe,  chief  of  the 
nation,  still  bet  on  "  Big  Jim  Starr." 

"  Tliis  is  murderous !"  I  exclaimed  with 
horror,  as  one  of  the  gladiators  was  borne  up 
the  mound  and  deposited  on  the  grass,  a  few 
steps  from  my  side,  and  his  wife  fell  do'wn  in 
a  swoon  on  her  husband's  pale  and  apparently 
lifeless  body. 

"  Wait  a  little.  The  murder  has  not  yet 
begiui,"  answered  Judge  Paschal,  who  had 
often  previously  witnessed  such  bloody 
spectacles. 

Again  the  bugle  yelled  forth  a  third  sound, 
and  drew  larger  crowds  into  the  arena,  and 
again  the  ball  soared  like  a  bird  loose  fron^ 
the  hand.  My  eyes  were  directed  to  young 
Runabout.  I  saw  him  start  with  the  rapidity 
of  an  arrow;  but  he  had  scarcely  made  two 
leaps  when  he  was  caught  by  big  Jim  Starr, 
who  commenced  dragging  him  backwards. 
The  ensuing  struggle  needed  only  the  descrip- 
tion of  a  Homer  to  embalm  it  with  the 
sublime.    The  antagonists,  clinched   in  the 


iron,  Indian  hug,  writhing  and  twistiug  like 
two  angry  serpents  linked  in  the  coils  of 
mortal  strife,  swayed  to  and  fro  for  more  than 
a  minute,  then  falling  lieavily,  to  the  amaze- 
ment of  everybody,  Runabout  was  uppermost. 
His  success,  however,  proved  only  momentary ; 
for  quick  as  thought  Starr  turned  him  and 
grasped  his  throat,  arose,  pulled  him  to  the 
circumference  of  the  ring,  and  then  threw 
him,  with  his  blackish-purple  face  and  strain- 
ed, bloodshot  eyes,  like  a  lump  of  lead  over 
the  ropes. 

"Score  down  forty  for  Big  Jim  Starr!" 
cried  the  marshal. 

Such  was  the  custom  of  the  game.  He  who 
could  foi'ce  his  adversary  oyer  the  ropes 
acquired  the  right  to  his  mark  on  the  ledger. 

It  so  happened  that  Runabout  fell  on  the 
outside  of  the  ring,  near  the  cedar  post  against 
which  Horace  Jordan  had  been  all  the  while 
leaning,  surveying  silently  the  progress  of  the 
game.  The  sight  of  his. sister's  lover,  or  per- 
haps some  slight  look  of  scorn  on  the  young 
lawyer's  features,  aroused  all  the  cherished 
hatred  and  venom  of  the  victor,  and  he  fairly 
shouted : 

"  Base  pettifogger  I  you  can  gaze  on  the 
sports  of  brave  men,  but  dare  not,  for  your 
coward's  soul,  take  part  in  the  game  of  glory !" 

"  I  dare !"  was  the  ringing  response  of 
Horace  Jordan,  as  he  cleared  the  ropes  at  a 
leap. 

The  American  stood  in  the  arena  of  the 
Indian  gladiators.  Stripping  instantly  to  the 
trowsers,  and  tying  a  red  silk  handkerchief 
around  him,  he  was  prepared  for  the  desperate 
game. 

"  See !  Emma  Starr  is  fainting !"  exclaimed 
my  friend. 

Glancing  suddenly  at  the  carriage,  I  beheld 
that  sweet,  mild  face,  white  as  linen,  and  her 
beautiful  little  hands  clasped  convulsively  on 
her  bosom,  as  if  to  keep  back  the  heart  from 
bursting.  The  agony,  however,  seemed  to 
pass  in  a  moment,  and  she  continued  to  look 
calmly  afterwards  on  the  swift-changing 
scenes,  with  cheeks  pallid  as  marble,  down 
which  tears  flowed  and  fell  in  slow,  even, 
measured  drops,  each  drop  recording  a  minute 
of  speechless  sorrow. 

Orice  more  the  bugle  sounded,  and  this 
time  three  loud,  lingering  blasts. 

"  Xow  comes  the  general  melee,  most  per- 
ilous of  all.  Each  man  who  tosses  his  oppo- 
nent over  the  ropes  wins  a  score  of  five," 
remarked  Judge  Paschal. 

The  arena  then  presented  the  appearance 


A   Cherokee  Ball-Play  and  Duel. 


171 


of  fifty  different  combats.  By  couples  all  the 
hundred  gladiators  had  closed;  they  were 
tugging  and  straining  to  haul  each  other  from 
the  ring.  Some  had  grabbed  their  antagonists 
by  the  hair,  and  were  hauling  them  along  in 
the  dust;  others  had  fastened  their  fingers 
with  a  grip  of  steel  on  yielding  windpipes, 
endeavoring  thus  to  choke  their  foes  into 
non-resistance;  while  others  seized  suddenly 
some  unsuspecting  right  hand,  and  strove  by 
a  quick  jerk  to  dislocate  the  shoulder  joint 
from  its  socket;  and  others  still,  stooping 
suddenly,  caught  the  foot  of  the  athlete,  and 
casting  him  headlong  to  the  ground,"  dragged 
the  poor  wretch  off  towards  the  ropes.  Every 
method  of  annoyance  was  fair  except  strokes 
with  the  fists  or  injuries  to  the  eye.  But 
what  surprised  me  most  of  all,  although 
dozens  must  have  been  suffering  tortures 
worse  than  the  pangs  of  death,  not  a  cry  of 
pain  was  heard,  such  is  the  marvellous  power 
of  education,  such  the  infinite  force  of  habit. 

"  Score  five  for  Eufus  Boss,  five  for  Kinny 
Davis,  five  for  Big  Jim  Starr,  and  five  for 
Horace  Jordan !"  escftiimed  the  marshal,  in 
quick  succeeding  orders,  as  the  tempestuous 
tumult  still  proceeded  without  intermission. 

Foremost  of  all  the  strife  might  be  seen  the 
two  deadly  enemies,  Starr  and  Jordan,  throw- 
ing feebler  men  over  the  ropes  as  if  they  had 
been  so  many  infants.  Jordan,  however, 
avoided  any  immediate  encounter  with  his 
adversary,  and  to  every  offer  of  the  sort  by 
the  other,  replied  aloud,  "  Wait  till  the  ring 
shall  be  cleared  of  all  but  us  two.  and  then 
you  shall  be  gratified."  And  still  the  wild 
"work  went  on  till  three  long  hours  rolled 
away,  and  at  length  only  twelve  champions 
remained  iu  the  arena;  for  those  once 
ejected  were  not  permitted  to  return,  and 
many  who  had  fainted  from  sheer  exhaustion 
had  been  removed  by  their  friends. 

Of  the  dozen  left  in  the  ring,  one  half  con- 
sisted of  the  brave,  bad  brothers.  The  others, 
with  the  exception  of  the  young  lawyer,  were 
full-blooded  Cherokee^,  inured  to  toil  from 
their  cradles,  and  utterly  insensible  to  fear. 

With  the  next  peal  of  the  signal  the  gladi- 
ators again  closed.  All  eyes  were  attracted 
to  the  combat  now  joined  between  the 
gigantic  Starr  and  the  slender,  sinewy  Jordan, 
as  a,  sharp  cry  from  the  carriage  of  Emma 
attested  her  horror  of  the  dreadful  vision. 

The  two  foes  grappled  first  in  the  danger- 
ous Indian  hug,  or  "  back  hold,"  as  it  is 
usually  called.  Big  Jim.  from  the  fury  of  his 
onset,  seemed  to  think  he  could  crush  in  the 


ribs  or  crack  the  spine  of  his  antagonist  with 
a  single  effort;  but  the  youth's-  frame  was 
born  to  be  as  elastic  as  steel.  It  bent  almost 
double  without  losing  its  balance,  and  then 
rebounding  broke  open  the  locks  of  those 
horny,  herculean  arms,  and  stood  erect  and 
free  as  before  the  bitter  embrace. 

A  deafening  shout  from  the  previously 
silent  spectators  hailed  the  prodigious 
achievement,  and  Big  Jim  himself  looked 
astonished  at  the  feat.  He  paused,  however, 
but  a  moment,  and  again  springing  forward, 
the  arms  of  the  two  encircled  each  other's 
bosoms  like  hoops  of  iron.  Again  the  form 
of  Jordan  bent  as  a  willow  in  the  wind,  and 
then  again  recovering,  broke  open  the  mon- 
strous lock.  A  renewed  shout  rent  the  air, 
accompanied  by  cries  of  "  Big  Jim  has  mot 
his  match]  Huzza  for  the  man  that  can 
break  the  black  bear's  hug !" 

The  Ajax  of  the  arena  heard  the  exclama- 
tions of  rejoicing,  and  the  sound  seemed  to 
madden  him  the  more.  Makiiig  a  clutch 
with  his  huge,  bony  fingers,  he  succeeded  in 
grasping  his  opponent's  throat,  but  at  the 
same  instant  felt  the  other  fixed  on  his  own 
windpipe.  Hanging  on  and  tugging  at  each 
other's  necks  like  unconquerable  bull-dogs, 
the  two  champions  reeled  from  side  to  side 
during  some  minutes,  till  both,  turning  purple 
in  the  face,  fell  together  gasping  in  the  hot 
dust.  Then  relaxing  their  weary  fingers,  they 
regained  their  feet  and  stood  for  several 
seconds  apart,  panting  for  breath,  yet  still 
scowling  dark  and  dreadful  defiance. 

"Let  us  fight  with  brave  men's  tools T 
cried  Big  Jim,  fairly  frenzied  with  rage. 

"Any  you  please,"  was  the  laconic  answer. 

"Then  let  us  have  bowie-knives,  and  let 
our  left  hands  be  fastened  together,"  said  the 
desperado,  with  a  frown  of  a  fiend  incarnate. 

"I  am  content  with  your  proposition,"'  was 
the  brief  response  of  Jordan. 

At  this  unexpected  change  in  the  mode  of 
combat,  the  excitement  grew  boundless.  The 
other  gladiators  suspended  their  strife,  and 
the  beholders  began  to  make  their  bets — some 
laying  large  wagers  that  Big  Jim  would  kill 
his  enemy,  pthers  staking  their  money  on 
Jordan,  and  others  on  death  agahist  both. 

I  cast  a  glance  towards  the  beautiful 
Emma— only  one  glance.  I  dared  not  hazard 
another,  she  looked  so  like  a  statue  of  despair 
carved  in  snow-white  alabaster.  Her  eyes 
were  motionless,  fixed  on  the  horrible  ring, 
where  a  brother,  or  a  lover,  or  perhaps  both, 
were  ,about  to  be  hewn  in  pieces  with  mur- 


172 


A  Cherokee  Ball-Flay  and  Duel. 


derous  knives.  Her  lips  were  livid  and  rigid  as 
that  of  a  corpse  that  had  been  dead  for  days. 

I  turned  avpay  from  an  apparition  so  ghost- 
like to  the  arena,  where  rapid  preparati(jn3 
were  being  made  for  the  duel.  I  saw  the 
seconds  bind  the  left  hands  of  their  principals 
hard  and  fast  together  with  a  small  hempen 
cord,  and  place  in  the  hands  of  each  a  gleam- 
ing bowie-knife  of  the  largest  size,  and  with 
an  edge  as  keen  as  a  razor;  and  I  saw — and 
felt  the  very  marrow  creep  with  icy  coldness 
in  my  bones  at  the  sight — the  mortal  foes 
standing  eyeing  each  other  witli  calm,  deter- 
mined faces,  in  whose  mirror  only  one  expres- 
sion could  be  detected — measureless  and 
unutterable  bate,  but  no  shrinking  token  of 
terror.  They  were  waiting  for  the  word  to 
begin. 

Such  unnatural  modes  of  duelling  are 
common  on  the  frontier  among  both  whites 
and  Indians,  and  result  chiefly  from  two 
causes;  first,  they  put  the  weak  or  unprac- 
tised on  a  footing  of  perfect  equality  with  the 
most  skillful  adepts  in  the  art  of  slayhig; 
second,  reckless  men,  conscious  of  total  supe- 
riority to  the  fear  of  death,  appear  to  delight 
in  demonstrating  their  bravery  by  iiishing 
into  the  jaws  of  certain  destruction.  Such 
men  often  die  with  a  smile  of  scornful  triumph 
on  their  features — die,  in  fact,  because  they 
wish  to  die.  Having  been  long  accustomed 
to  the  work  of  slaughter,  they  contract  an 
insane  love  for  it,  for  its  own  sake  alone.  It 
is  difficult  to  make  persons  comprehend  the 
motives  prompting  to  these  mutual  suicides 
who  have  never  lived  in  such  meridians — 
meridians  where  duels  with  double-barrelled 
shot-guns  are  of  yearly  occurrence,  where 
men  fight  not  unfrequently  in  dark  rooms  at 
midnight  with  dagger  or  pistol,  where  thgy 
clasp  hands  and  walk  off  beetling  precipices, 
or  leap  together  into  the  depths  of  foaming 
rivers  and  hold  each  other's  heads  under 
water  till  both  sink  down  into  fathomless 
gulfs,  which  are  their  graves — in  fine,  where 
foes  contrive  for  themselves  more  methods  of 
wildly-insane  homicide  than  ever  did  infatu- 
ated lovers  in  the  pages  of  a  French  romance. 
I  had  become  pretty  well  acquainted  with 
such  scenes  in  Texas  and  Arkansas,  and  yet 
could  not  forbear  trembling  in  every  limb  as 
I  saw  those  two  youths,  who  ought  to  have 
been  and  had  very  nearly  been  brothers, 
standing  there  waiting  for  the  word  that 
should  be  the  knell  of  their  funeral  and  their 
summons  to  the  judgment-bar  of  the  Almighty. 
Yes,  standing  in  the  broad  noon  blaze  of  '•  the 


all-seeing  sun,"  with  the  gaze  of  thousands  of 
eyes  set  upon  their  unfeeling  faces,  with  the 
sky  they  might  never  look  on  more  so  bright 
above,  and  flowers  beneath  so  golden,  and  the 
little  birds  singing  their  I'oundelays,  and  they, 
with  great  knives  drawn  back,  ready,  ready, 
waiting  to  plunge  into  eternity ! 

'•Are  you  ready?"  asked  George  Sanders, 
Big  Jim's  second,  in  a  voice  ringing  over  the 
Looliing-glass  Praiiie  clear  as  the  tones  of 
bell  metal. 

"  Ready !"  tliey  both  answered,  with  thrill- 
ing distinctness,  in  the  same  breath. 

"  Then  go  ahead !"'  was  the  coarse,  savage 
word. 

And  at  the  word,  two  fierce  thrusts  were 
made  at  two  wami,  beating  hearts — human 
hearts,  too,  reader,  like  yours  and  mine,  only 
braver,  perhaps — and  tAvo  long,  keen  knives 
pierced  two  bleeding  sides.  The  fii-st  wounds, 
however,  were  not  mortal,  at  least,  not  imme- 
diately so;  for  other  blows  followed,  and  steel 
clashed  against  steel,  and  the  combatants  still 
continued  to  battle  on  till  their  bodies  were 
bathed  in  a  baptism  of  fresh  blood,  and  finally 
both  staggered  and  fell  forward  at  the  same 
moment,  first  to  t-lieir  knees,  and  then  on  their 
faces,  with  their  cheeks  almost  touching. 

Then  a  wild,  unearthly,  wailing  scream 
issued  from  the  carriage  on  the  mound. 
Another,  also,  had  fallen,  and  with  a  sharper 
pain  in  the  heart  than  ever  emanated  from 
the  point  of  a  bowie-knife.  The  beautiful 
Emma  had  fainted. 

The  seconds  cut  asunder  the  cords  fmni 
the  left  hands  of  the  antagonists,  and  it  was 
found  that  Big  Jim  Starr  had  gone  to  his 
long  home ;  but  Horace  Jordan,  although 
frightfully  mangled,  soon  revived,  and  my 
friend  and  I  hurried  him  from  the  place  as 
soon  as  possible,  for  fear  of  the  vengeance  of 
the  other  brothers.  "U'e  carried  him  across 
the  line  into  Arkansas,  where,  after  long  suf- 
fering, he  recovered.  Shortly  after  his  recov- 
ery, the  lovely  Miss  Emma  Starr  was  missing 
from  the  Cherokee  nation.  I  think  it  h;is 
been  vaguely  hinted  that  she  and  her  husband 
Horace  Jordan  are  living  happily  together  in 
a  Texas  town. 

"But  has  the  story  no  moral  ?"  interrogates 
the  critic. 

Ay,  it  has  a  gi'eat  and  useful  moral  if  rizTitly 
expounded.  It  proves  that  the  fear  of  death 
— that  phan  tom  horror  which  haunts  the  doors 
and  darkens  the  firesides  of  civilized  life — is, 
after  all,  not  an  unconquerable  instinct,  but  a 
fictitious  adjunct  of  education. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  N.C.  AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


00032205658 

FOR  USE  ONLY  IN 
THE  NORTH  CAROLINA  COLLECTION 


